


Castle Games

by karanguni



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Gen, M/M, random guest appearances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karanguni/pseuds/karanguni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Torajirou?' Hikaru said, now staring at the man. He'd always known that he was going to end up in some special karmic hell for the way he'd treated Sai, but this was unbelievable. '<em>This</em> is Honinbou Shuusaku?’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castle Games

Naturally, the whole thing was entirely Touya’s fault. If Touya hadn’t played so abysmally against Ichiriki 7-dan, 16-year-old snotty hothead to end all 16-year-old snotty hotheads, Hikaru would never have needed to yell at him. And, logically, if Hikaru hadn’t needed to school Touya on his horrific Go they wouldn’t have been arguing, and if they hadn’t been arguing Hikaru would never have walked into traffic.

Turned out that being hit by a motorcycle really hurt.

 

* * *

 

Hikaru woke up and didn’t feel anything, which was the first sign that something was wrong. The fact that he was staring up at what looked like the ceiling of an old _machiya_ townhouse instead of being ensconced in a hospital bed also helped tip him off.

'Crap,’ Hikaru sighed. 'I'm dead, aren't I?’

With some reluctance, Hikaru forced himself to take a look around. There was a man sitting at a _goban_ , and behind him a familiar figure.

' _Sai?_ ' Hikaru exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and managing to fall througha wall in his haste to get to the ghost. The _other_ ghost, since Hikaru figured he was a ghost too. Maybe eternity wouldn't be so bad if they were in this together. 'Sai!' he yelled, but Sai didn't turn to face him. Neither did the man at the _goban_. Hikaru finally reached them, hands held out to grab Sai's shoulders, but Hikaru ended up falling past Sai as easily as he'd gone through the wall.

'Torajirou,' Sai instructed the young man, entirely unperturbed by the fact that Hikaru had basically phased right through him. 'I think that was an excellent _fuseki_. We should develop it further.'

'Torajirou?' Hikaru said, now staring at the man. He'd always known that he was going to end up in some special karmic hell for the way he'd treated Sai, but this was unbelievable. ' _This_ is Honinbou Shuusaku?' 

'I have a game with Ota-san in three weeks,' 'Torajirou said to Sai. He looked really young, like barely even twenty, and he clearly couldn't sense Hikaru.

'Let's make sure we're prepared, then,' said Sai in the tone of voice he used when very serious Go was going to be played for a very long time. He settled on the other side of the goban, oblivious to the fact that Hikaru was _right there_ and on the verge of a serious posthumous breakdown. Sai withdrew his fan and indicated a move. Ten minutes later and Hikaru was pretty sure that they wouldn't know he was there even if he'd been made of real flesh and blood.

'This,' Hikaru proclaimed, resigning himself to sitting between the two engrossed players, 'is going to suck epically.'

 

* * *

 

Being a ghost with nothing to haunt was pretty lousy. At first, Hikaru let himself be distracted by the fact that, hello, he was in Edo-era Japan. He'd become pretty good at history in school after the whole thing with Sai the first time round, so it didn't take Hikaru long to figure out that he had been sent back to some time in the mid-1800s. Shuusaku had been born in 1829, so taking into account how old he looked now it was probably, what, 1850? Everyone everywhere was dressed like characters in a _taiga_ historical drama on TV.

There was so much to look at that Hikaru didn't really have any spare time to reflect on the fact that he was probably, well, dead. What was he supposed to do with that information anyway? Be sad? Angry? It was easier and less traumatic to allow himself to fall into the rhythm of Shuusaku's life. It turned out that ghosts didn't need much sleep, so even though Hikaru couldn't wander away from Torajirou or Sai for much more than the length of a room, he got a lot of sightseeing and people watching in.

Hikaru also watched a lot of Go. He'd always assumed that Torajirou had rolled over and let Sai do all the playing, but it turned out that he was actually a pretty smart guy in his own right. Hikaru didn't want to flatter himself (too much) by thinking that Sai only haunted people who had talent, but Torajirou was no pushover. His playing style, Hikaru observed about fifty games or so in, was pretty different from Sai's, but it had serious edginess; Torajirou played the centre like a man possessed (ha-ha-ha). But then again, who could blame him? Although he had tons of potential, he was clearly still a lifetime or three away from the level Sai played at, and he didn't even have the chance to play anybody on his own terms.

Torajirou was never going to develop his own game; the only opponent he'd have till he died was Sai. It was a shitty, depressing thought. Hikaru tried to imagine playing nobody but Touya over and over again for days and months and years, and felt vaguely nauseous at the prospect. 

That said, Torajirou was clearly a better person that Hikaru was, because it didn't seem to bother him much. The Honinbou never really fought with Sai; they mostly talked like grown-ups about the politics, both real-life stuff and gossip from the Go world. The whole professional system as Hikaru knew it didn't quite exist out here: ranks and promotions and titles all seemed to revolve around a few major lineages that tried to beat the crap out of each other.

Torajirou's _sensei_ was Honinbou Shuwa, which, wow. Shuwa was one of the greats, and that was saying a lot considering that Hikaru was pretty sure _he_ didn't have a Heian-era cheat code prompting him all the time. Torajirou was deeply loyal to his _sensei_ ; he went over and did chores and poured tea and had a lot of discussions in careful, polite _keigo_ that Hikaru found himself getting alarmingly adept at understanding. Every time this happened, Sai would settle himself down next to Torajirou with perfect posture, hands neatly folded over his lap, and just _listened_. Really rapt, graceful listening, like he was digesting everything that was being said.

Hikaru realised that he'd never really paid much attention to what Sai used to do when he was in school or doing homework or whatever. He'd never appreciated how put together Sai had to be to not just want to rip his hair out from boredom, because Hikaru pretty much wanted to do that all the time that they weren't walking past some living historical monument or playing Go.

That day, Hikaru was sprawled in a corner of the Shuwa study room, watching as Shuusaku sat simultaneously eating and studying _kifu_. For a split second, Hikaru thought longingly of how his mother used to make him instant curry rice out of the box for dinner every time he had an official match. What surprised him was how muted the feeling was. In life, Hikaru was rarely _not_ ravenous -- eating a lot the only way to deal when you thought Go morning, day, and night -- but now that ever-present hunger seemed to have evaporated. It wasn't that he couldn't _remember_ how good food was; it was more like it didn't matter.

'If I don't need food and I don't need sleep and don't have anybody to talk to, what am I supposed to do here?' Hikaru grumbled aloud, then froze. 'Oh no,' he said, a little horrified. ' _Go?_ All I have left is to _watch Sai play Go?_ '

He thought about that for a second, and an ugly, guilty feeling settled at the bottom of Hikaru's stomach. He'd only been like this for about three weeks, but he was already starting to feel extremely unsettled. Fidgety was the right word, he supposed. When so little of the stuff that kept living people going _mattered_ , all Hikaru really wanted was to, well, reach out to somebody. Touch something, whether that was Torajirou's dirty sandals or a go stone. Pretty much the only times he felt at peace was when he watched a match unfold. Then Hikaru could let himself fall into the game, whether it was by analysing playing styles or by challenging himself to read forward more and more moves or by simply listening to the clear, soothing sound of pieces being set down on a well-made board.

Maybe this was really was it was like to be a ghost: hungry all the time, but not for food. Hikaru suddenly thought of that one time in literature class where his teacher had talked about a really famous chapter from the _Tale of Genji_ about, named after... what was her name? Aoi no Ue? Whatever, it was where Genji's wife got herself possessed by Genji's (very dead) ex-mistress, Lady Rokujo. Hikaru hadn't really understood why Rokujo   _cared_ so much about Genji -- killing the dude's wife seemed really pointless considering Rokujo was just a ghost by that point. But now it seemed obvious to Hikaru that Rokujo's _real_ problem had been jealousy. Maybe she'd wanted to be remembered by someone she'd loved so badly that it twisted her up inside and made her go insane. Maybe that was what it had been like for Sai: always watching Hikaru selfishly play while knowing that he could never get back on the path to the Hand of God.

Sai had always been a little bit too weepy for Hikaru's tastes, but he'd never been cruel, nor had he been unkind. It occurred to Hikaru now how much strength of will that must have required.

'I suppose if there's any fitting punishment...' Hikaru mumbled to himself, folding up miserably in a corner. The motion wasn't comforting; Hikaru just felt annoyed at how he had to concentrate really hard to avoid plummeting through the floor. 'This sucks,' Hikaru declared to the world in general. 'And I wish that Shuusaku would move his stupid rice bowl off the first page of the _kifu_.'

 

* * *

 

A few days later, Torajirou woke up earlier than usual. The guy had a crazy expression written all over his face, and kept fumbling as he tried to get into the millions of layers of cloth that made up his formal Go-playing wardrobe. 'Sai,' Toraijou said, 'it's finally the day.'

'Yes, it is,' Sai said, all fond indulgence in his voice, and for a moment Hikaru just really wanted to throw a shoe at Torajirou's bumbling, honest face. 'Remember to send a note over before you go.'

'These formalities,' Torajirou muttered mutinously, and Hikaru couldn't help but agree. Good thing that the Ki-in had been there to deal with all the match arrangement stuff for him, because Hikaru was pretty sure he'd never have played a match otherwise. Torajirou headed to his desk and took out a brush and some writing paper. He started writing, then stopped a line in, laughing a little at himself. 'Sai, look,' he said, gesturing at the paper. 'I'm so nervous that I've miswritten my title.'

Sai put a hand over his mouth and tittered. 'You're certainly not _just_ Kuwabara Shuusaku any longer. Though _Honinbou_ isn't all that difficult to write, is it?'

'Not everyone has your perfect penmanship,' Torajirou grumbled, but Hikaru barely heard him.

'Torajirou's family name was _Kuwabara?_ ' Hikaru yelled at no one in particular, scrambling to look at the registration information that the man had been writing out. 'Kuwabara as in Kuwabara-Honinbou?' The kanji, written in Shuusaku's delicate brushwork, was exactly the same. 'Oh man,' Hikaru said, a little stunned. 'Maybe that's why the old geezer always managed to look where Sai was.' He paused, then clawed at his face. 'Damn it, I _like_ Torajirou!'

Meanwhile, Torajirou had managed to wrestle his clothing into place, and was headed out the door. Hikaru drifted after him, feeling a little soulless. At least the match they were headed for was going to be interesting. It was going to be played against Ota Yuuzou, someone that Hikaru had heard Torajirou wax lyrical over time and time again.

Recently, Torajirou and Sai had been going over all the old _kifu_ of games that they'd played against Ota, and Hikaru had to admit that the guy was pretty impressive. Monstrously aggressive, he'd won 3 out of 10 games against Sai during one summer worth of play, according to the records. Then Sai's playing style had changed utterly, and it had taken four years for Torajirou to get round to playing Ota at even strength. Hikaru had a strong suspicion that Ota was the one person that Torajirou played against without any help from Sai, but couldn't prove it. The _kifu_ were never left out long enough for Hikaru, with his stupid useless ghost hands, to read deep enough into to find out. But Torajirou certainly hadn't been able to shut up about this match for what felt like forever, and Hikaru was kind of curious to see this Ota guy in the flesh.

 

* * *

 

'Wow,' Hikaru said, an hour later when Torajirou finally stepped into the playing room where Ota had been waiting. 'Okay, I guess he's not bad for a geezer.'

Ota was maybe in his late thirties; Hikaru couldn't really tell. He was just really good looking, even by modern standards -- he was clearly nowhere near Torajirou's age, but he'd aged well and had a sort of smirky self-confidence that reminded Hikaru a little of Ogata-sensei. He also had a really nice head of hair, which was odd considering that Torajirou and almost every other Go player worth their salt had _their_ heads shaved.

'Hello, Shuusaku,' Ota greeted him. 'It's been far too long.'

'Hello,' Torajirou replied, blushing - _blushing!_ \- and bowing low.

Sai, seated next to Torajirou, started laughing quietly.

Hikaru looked at Ota, then looked at Torajirou, then looked at Sai. 'Sometimes, I still don't get any of this,' he sighed, and waited for the game to start.

Ota and Torajirou took their time getting set up, but Hikaru could see that it was a happy, much-loved process for the both of them. Sai had seated himself adjacent to the board, so Hikaru was right: Torajirou _did_ play Ota by himself. It made Hikaru weirdly happy to know that Torajirou genuinely like the game of Go enough to want to do that. Ota kept up a steady stream of easy chatter while Torajirou dutifully cleaned off the top of the _goban_ and set the _goke_ down.

'I have one request before we begin,' Torajirou said to Ota as they both settled into position.

'What is it?' Ota asked. One of his hands was laid, lazy and possessive, on the cover of his _goke_. He looked deceptively laid back, but Hikaru could sense that he _really_ wanted to start playing.

'If I win,' Torajirou said, with a tone of casualness so badly faked that even Hikaru could see it, 'I want you to accept the invitation to play at the castle games next year.'

'That annual shindig with the shogun?' Ota said, opening up his _goke_. 'I'd have to shave my head to go, but I like my hair too much.'

' _If I win_ ,' Torajirou replied, polite but fierce.

Ota smiled, a razor edged smile. 'You can certainly try, Torajirou. Enough talk. Let's play.'

They started, and it was a beautiful, dizzying game to follow. Ota was as aggressive as the _kifu_ had led Hikaru to believe: his moves were bold, and he didn't choose single battles in the corners, preferring instead to wage what felt like total war all over the board. The moves were, of course, old fashioned, but the tension between the two players was alive and real and Hikaru felt a little bit drunk watching them play. Torajirou wasn't Sai, but he was something else altogether in this game. His style was the polar opposite of Ota's: steady, thick, almost too defensive before attacking in brilliant, insolent flashes. Long minutes spent thinking melted into inhalations and exhalations. The morning sun crept slowly but inevitably across the sky. They were perhaps a quarter of the way during harsh noon, and they played on through the gentler evening light as the world outside darkened. At some point, servants must have come in to light some candles and braziers, but Hikaru couldn't have put a finger on when. Sai was utterly still; a watchful statue. It was late by the time they moved to close in _yose_. Hikaru knew it was going to be close, but he couldn't read far enough ahead to tell how close.

 _Yose_ was strange. Both Ota and Torajirou clearly knew how it was going to end; the tension in both of their shoulders had faded somewhat. They cut straight to the point and were laying down moves at a regular, rhythmic pace. Every once in a while it seemed like they moved almost in sync; Ota would lay down a piece and Torajirou's hand would be there an instant later laying down his, the two of them almost touching. It went on that way for some time. It was almost uncomfortable to watch, and for the first time ever, Hikaru saw Sai get up and leave the room. What? Didn't he want to know how it ended? Maybe he already knew, but still. Two minutes later and it turned out to be a half-moku victory for Ota.

Ota exhaled, the sound of it loud in the room. 'See?' he said a moment later, his voice a little shaken. 'I wouldn't sacrifice my hair for anything. Is your pet ghost gone?'

Ota _knew_.

'Yes,' Torajirou said, and he reached across the board to touch his fingers to the dark strands of Ota's--- 'Oh my god,' Hikaru said, putting his face in his hands. 'Oh my god, _oh my god_.' Abandoning dignity, Hikaru ran for the door.

Sai was outside in the corridor. As Hikaru was trying to figure out how far away from the room he could get, Sai spoke. 'Do you see something familiar in their play?'  
  
Hikaru froze. Very slowly, he turned towards Sai. 'You can _see me?_ ' he demanded.

'I could always see you,' Sai said, looking so smug that Hikaru _knew_ , just _knew_ that this was _his_ Sai, that this was the Sai who'd taught him how to play and that this whole situation was, therefore, the world's most cruel but maybe best joke ever.

'I could _punch you_ ,' Hikaru wailed, coming towards Sai as tears sprang up in his eyes.

'You hate it when I cry,' Sai said, gently pointing at the corners of Hikaru's eyes with his fan. 'So don't cry.'

Furiously wiping his eyes, (god damn it he was a ghost, why did he have to still be subjected to waterworks) Hikaru said, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.'

Sai smiled, a calmer smile than Hikaru had ever seen him smile. 'There's nothing to be sorry about.'

'What do you mean, by the way,' Hikaru said, sniffling. 'About seeing something familiar in --'  
  
He froze. Sai's smile morphed. ' _No_ ,' he said, eyes widening in horror.

'In many ways, I'm glad that -- unlike Torajirou -- you hadn't quite hit puberty when I --'

' _Stop talking_ ,' Hikaru hissed. 'It's not _like that_ with Touya and oh god,' he said. 'It totally _is_ like that with Touya, isn't it?'

'Torajirou and Ota were the closest I've ever seen any two people get to the Hand of God,' Sai said, gracefully ignoring the fact that Hikaru was now well and truly ready for a fit of hysterics. 'Until you two, that is.'

'What does it matter?' Hikaru sighed, shoulders slumping. 'I'm dead.'

'Are you?' Sai said, dissolving.

 

* * *

 

Hikaru opened his eyes and saw a white, antiseptic ceiling far whiter than any ceiling that could have existed in 1849.

'Sai!' he gasped, bolting upright. Somewhere nearby, a monitor beeped alarmingly.

'You're awake!' his mother exclaimed from beside him.  
  
Hikaru turned blindly to look at her: her hair was dishevelled and there were bags under her eyes. 'How long have I been out?' he asked.

'Three weeks in a coma,' his mother wept, gathering him into her arms. 'Your father's down the hall getting a drink, but he'll be back soon. Oh, _Hikaru_.'

 

* * *

 

Three hours later, which Hikaru really did not consider a reasonable amount of time considering that it was _seven in the morning_ , Touya showed up, a bleary-eyed Ogata-sensei in tow.

'Good to see you awake, Shindou,' Ogata nodded at him. 'I'm glad to hear you'll make a full recovery. Now, I'm going to go have a smoke and leave this lunatic with you.'

Exeunt Ogata, which left Touya, alone, in the room with Hikaru.

Touya opened his mouth. Hikaru stopped him by speaking. 'Before you say anything, back in the eighties Cho Chikun _totally_ got into a car accident, so I'm definitely not unique amongst Go players.'

Touya's mouth clicked shut. He had his hands by his side, clenched into shaking fists.

'Hey Touya,' Hikaru said quietly, his voice shaking as well. 'Do you believe in ghosts?'

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I could not make history up if I tried. Amongst other things:
> 
>   * Honinbou Shuusaku's name is spelled the same way as Kuwabara Honinbou's
>   * Ota genuinely did refuse to play in the castle games because of [his hair](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%8Cta_Y%C5%ABzo)
>   * Ota and Shuusaku's game records are accurate; Shuusaku became Honinbou in 1848, and played the first of 19 consecutive winning castle games starting that year. This is set in 1849.
>   * Ichiriki Ryo really is a [16-year-old 7-dan](http://karanguni.tumblr.com/tagged/go).
> 



End file.
